Losing a baby tore them apart...

Can having another reunite them?

Losing their daughter left doctors Tucker and Kady heartbroken and when he couldn’t face trying for another child, it left their marriage in pieces. When they meet again at a medical event, their memories are reawakened—along with their scorching chemistry! But Kady still longs for a baby, and Tucker must finally face his fears if he’s to find happiness with her again...

Three-times Golden Heart® finalist TINA BECKETT learned to pack her suitcases almost before she learned to read. Born to a military family, she has lived in the United States, Puerto Rico, Portugal and Brazil. In addition to travelling Tina loves to cuddle with her pug, Alex, spend time with her family, and hit the trails on her horse. Learn more about Tina from her website, or ‘friend’ her on Facebook.

Also by Tina Beckett

Winning Back His Doctor BrideA Daddy for Her DaughterThe Nurse’s Christmas GiftRafael’s One-Night Bombshell

Hot Brazilian Docs! miniseries

To Play with FireThe Dangers of Dating Dr CarvalhoThe Doctor’s Forbidden TemptationFrom Passion to Pregnancy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Doctors’ Baby Miracle

Tina Beckett

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07493-3

THE DOCTORS’ BABY MIRACLE

© 2018 Tina Beckett

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my kids.

You make me laugh and support me no matter what.

I love you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

PROLOGUE

Two years ago

TUCKER STEVENSON WALKED out of the clinic a new man.

Only he didn’t feel new. He felt old and cynical and very, very tired. But at least he’d severed himself from his past, in more ways than one. What was that old Grimm’s fairy tale he’d read as a child? Seven at One Blow? Well, he hadn’t struck down seven, but two was enough: a vasectomy and a divorce. It did seem kind of ironic that his test for “swimmers” should be scheduled for the very same day his divorce became final.

He’d never in his worst nightmares suspected he and Kady would end this way. Theirs had been the stuff dreams were made of. Or so he’d thought. Yet here he was, making sure what had happened to them would never happen again.

He glanced back at the clinic before pulling his sunglasses off his head and dropping them onto his nose, dimming the view around him as he made his way to the subway station.

It was done. There was no going back.

His doctor, while arguing against the procedure, saying Tucker was too young to make that kind of decision, had finally acquiesced and given him the old snip-snip eight weeks ago. He would not make another woman pregnant, or cause her to go through the horrors and heartache he and Kady had lived through. She’d tried to talk him out of it, saying they were through if he went through with it. But it hadn’t changed his mind.

It hadn’t changed hers either. Four years of marriage gone, in the blink of an eye.

He bumped shoulders with someone with a muttered apology as he stepped into the crowded station. On his way back to the hospital, a twelve-hour shift stared him in the face. But at least work kept him from thinking. And the change in venue from Atlanta to New York had meant a fresh start, even if it hadn’t dulled the heartache of the past. Bracing his feet apart and wrapping his fingers around the grab bar over his head, he closed his eyes and let the steady whooshing of the metro keep the painful memories at bay.

If only they’d known when they’d met, things might have been different.

No, they wouldn’t. Because while the pregnancy—a year into their relationship—had come as a shock, the tearful yearning in Kady’s eyes as she’d shown him the pregnancy test had won Tucker over. She’d desperately wanted that child. Had wanted him to be happy about it. And in the end he had been. A hurried elopement and whirlwind honeymoon had been just like the rest of their relationship, full of explosive passion that left him breathless. It had been that way the moment they’d laid eyes on each other. The rest was history.

“No regrets,” she’d said, lifting her glass of sparkling cider and clinking it against his with a laugh. And when Grace had been born... Magic. Pure magic. The perfect world they’d created had seemed complete. Their love unbreakable.

And yet look at them now.

He opened his eyes and hardened his heart. This solved nothing and only put him in a bad place. His patients needed him. And he needed them.

So that’s what he would focus on, and leave all the other stuff behind.

At least until he hit his bed tonight and fell into an exhausted sleep.

The subway lurched to a stop, the doors peeled apart, and Tucker joined the throng of people vying for the exit. Seconds later he was headed up the escalator where a shaft of sunlight beckoned, promising a brighter day.

And, with a little luck, a less painful future.

CHAPTER ONE

Present day

KADY MCPHERSON STUFFED the letter from the IVF clinic into her purse as she stepped out of the taxi onto the sidewalk of the conference center. She paused and took a deep decisive breath. As much as she hated being late, nothing could blot her happiness. She was finally going to take charge of her life after all this time.

One glance at her watch had her racing up the concrete steps. She was supposed to have been here five minutes ago. But who knew that getting a cab would be so hard? At least she wasn’t the first speaker. But she still had to somehow slide onto that stage without disrupting the symposium.

She showed her badge to the official manning the registration desk. He pointed her toward the second door on the left, where a large cardboard placard was set on an easel: Managing High-Risk Pregnancies and Deliveries.

High-risk.

Her tummy squelched just a bit. As much as she loved her job, there were moments like this, when seeing it spelled out in crisp emotionless text sent her mind spinning into the past. As did each case that didn’t go the way she hoped it would. She’d spent nights staring at the ceiling in her bedroom, trying to make sense of it all. Which inevitably led to trying to draw her own baby’s face into sharp focus. Instead, the image had blurred with time.

Pregnant women were her passion. And she was committed to doing everything in her power to make each one’s delivery process as safe as possible. Was it because of the pain she’d gone through when she’d lost her child? Maybe. All she knew was that she was driven to help every woman she could. And every baby.

So here she was in New York, substituting for a panelist at the plea from a sister hospital. She’d come straight from the airport to the huge Westcott Hotel complex—her home for the next week. Hopefully the rest of her stay would be less chaotic than today had been.

* * *

She avoided looking at the sign again, instead tugging the heavy door and peering inside. The sound of chattering voices had her sagging with relief. People were still milling around the huge room, looking for empty seats, while someone passed out bottles of water to the panel members on the dais. Evidently she wasn’t the only one running late.

Making sure that envelope wasn’t sticking out, she shifted her purse higher onto her shoulder and made her way up four steps to the top of the platform.

So far so good. No one had noticed her entry.

She edged past the first three panelists as she tried to figure out where she was supposed to sit. The crisply folded nameplates were facing the audience, so she had no idea who anyone was. There were still two empty seats up here. Which one was hers?

She reached the first empty chair and leaned over it, tipping the paper name card so she could see it. Someone named Abe Williams. Okay, it wasn’t this one.

The person sitting to the left turned slightly to look up—did a second take.

Shock and horror snaked up her spine just as the lights from the huge overhead chandeliers faded and came back up. A signal that they were getting ready to start.

A signal she ignored, her tummy muscles spasming in protest. She pressed a hand to it, gritting her teeth to keep the sudden slash of pain from exiting her throat.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak...couldn’t move.

Oh, God.

All of a sudden, Grace’s face swam before her eyes in focus once again. Because she was the spitting image of this man, mirrored in those familiar features—that sharp nose, high cheekbones, those blue-gray eyes.

Saliva pooled in her mouth. A quick swallow sent it rushing to join the acidic lagoon growing inside her.

The lights winked again.

“Hello, Kady. Small world.” The low, graveled tone that had once driven her wild with need was now tight. With anger? Hatred?

If so, it wasn’t reflected in his eyes. They didn’t flicker away, just held hers with an impassivity that made her want to cry. The same impassivity he’d shown at the end of their marriage.

It had been two years since their divorce...three years since their daughter’s death.

Hurt made her draw a shaky breath, unsure what to do or say. The lights came back up a third time, and the moderator moved behind the podium. He gave them a pointed glance that sent her hurrying down the row without a word. She felt Tucker’s gaze follow her.

It could be worse. She could be sitting right next to him.

Worse?

What could be worse than attending the same convention as a man who’d had a vasectomy just to make sure he never fathered another child with you?

She’d pleaded with him. Had begged him to reconsider.

Remembered humiliation quickened her steps.

Never again. She would never rely on another man for her happiness. This time around she would be one in charge of her future. Of whether she had another child or not.

She dropped into the padded metal seat and scooted it under the table, cringing as the legs made an awful squealing sound against the polished wooden floor. The man at the podium glanced her way again, a frown on his face. She mouthed, “Sorry,” then dug into her attaché for the notes she’d brought. How was she going to speak when it came her turn?

The crowded room would have been nerve-racking enough, but to have someone who’d once known the most intimate details of her life sit there and weigh her every word?

Her thumb scrubbed over the spot on her finger. Empty, but not forgotten. Neither had her muscle memory erased the habit of reaching for it whenever she was nervous.

Or missing him.

No, she didn’t miss him. Not anymore.

The moderator gave a quick summary of the topic and then started down the line of presenters, reading from a sheet that evidently contained each person’s professional bio. She stared at her notes, willing the words to make sense. Willing herself to drown out the well-modulated voice from seconds earlier. Her thumb searched for that missing ring yet again.

Stop it, Kady.

She should have been counting people, so she could brace herself for the mention of her ex’s name, but since she didn’t remember how many seats there were, all she could do was sit there in dread.

“Dr. Tucker Stevenson, pediatric surgeon specializing in fetal surgery at Wilson-Ross Memorial Hospital, New York City.”

Her heart twisted. Even the best surgeon in the world couldn’t have prevented what had happened three years ago. And Tucker was one of the best.

The moderator moved on to the next panelist, listing dry facts that barely scratched the surface of what made each person live and breathe...and grieve.

“Dr. Kadeline McPherson, maternal-fetal medicine, at Wilson-Ross Memorial Hospital, Atlanta, Georgia.”

No mention of anyone’s personal life, how many children, spouse’s name. Thank God. And she was even more thankful that she’d gone back to her maiden name. Kadeline Stevenson might have caused awkward questions that she’d rather not answer. She suspected Tucker would prefer that little tidbit to remain buried as well.

She gulped.

Buried.

She hated that word. Avoided using it like the plague.

Speech. Read your speech.

Fiddling with her thin sheaf of papers that contained words she’d recited hundreds of times, she prayed for a clear head. The question-and-answer phase was the trickier part, trying to think up responses on the fly.

With Tucker sitting in the same room.

Forget about him, Kady.

The table microphone inched its way down the line as each person finished.

Tucker’s turn came, and his voice cut through her all over again. So much for forgetting about him.

His words were sure and firm, with a confidence that came with being the top in his field.

Kady closed her eyes and tried to drown him out with a bawdy mental rendition of “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall”, but it didn’t work. Especially since he’d sung that very song to her during her labor to take her mind off the pain.

If only she’d known the real pain would come months after the baby’s actual birth.

“Fetal surgical intervention is necessary in any number of cases. My most recent involved an obstructed urethra in an eight-month-old fetus. Surgery removed the blockage and mother and baby were both fine.”

They were both fine. How many times did he say that in a day?

Light applause followed his speech, just like it had everyone else’s. Kady realized she was the only one not clapping, but just as she went to join in, the sound died away, leaving her with her hands up, palms facing each other.

Tucker chose that very moment to glance her way. One side of his mouth quirked up, a crease coming to life in his right cheek.

Her breath caught as a spark of something dark arrowed through her abdomen. For a few awful seconds she couldn’t look away. He evidently didn’t have the same problem, giving his attention to the next speaker, who talked about controlling blood pressure in patients with preeclampsia.

She wasn’t making that mistake again.

She focused on some nameless audience member as the microphone moved again, capturing the topic of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome. So far no one had mentioned genetic abnormalities, but no symposium of high-risk pregnancies would be complete without that element. Normally she could just sit there stoically, an expression of polite interest superglued to her face.

But with Tucker sitting just down the row? Almost impossible.

Was he thinking the same thing?

Doubtful. He’d somehow seemed to be able to push Grace out of his life and thoughts with the same ease that he’d signed those divorce papers. Out of sight. Out of mind. Was that how it worked with him?

No, she’d seen his grief firsthand. Raw and angry and ready to wreak havoc on the gods for what had happened. In the end, the only true havoc he’d wreaked had been on their relationship when he’d stated they were having no more children. Ever. She’d had no say. Her request to him to go with her to genetic counseling had fallen on deaf ears. Nothing had moved him from his stance.

And yet a second ago he’d tossed her a smile that had napalmed her senses as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if they were old friends.

They were not friends.

The drone of voices went silent. Glancing up in a panic, she realized it was because it was her turn to speak. The microphone was already in front of her. How had she missed that?

Clearing her throat and hearing it amplified through the whole auditorium made her wince. As did the light laughter that accompanied it. “Sorry. It was a long flight.”

More laughter. Louder this time. Maybe because the flight from Atlanta to New York only took a little over two hours.

The emotional distance, though, was much, much longer.

She forced an amused crinkle to her nose. “Long day at the office?”

This time the laughter was with her rather than aimed at her. It helped put her at ease and allowed her to temporarily block out all thoughts of Tucker Stevenson. Plunging into her brief five-minute speech, she allowed her passion for the subject at hand to propel her through to the end. Wasn’t her specialty all about empowering women during difficult times?

And wasn’t that what her IVF quest was all about?

The audience clapped, and she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking a glance back down the line of presenters. Tucker was leaning forward, his elbows planted on the table, head swiveled in her direction. This time he gave her a nod that she could swear contained at least a hint of admiration.

For her?

A shiver went through her.

No, she had to be mistaken.

A thought came to mind. Had he gone through with the procedure?

The thought of her ex-husband never fathering another sweet baby girl like their Grace pierced straight through her. He’d been a wonderful daddy—once he’d got over his initial fears of inadequacy. He’d loved their daughter in a way that had made her go all gooey inside—had made her hot for him and him alone. No other man could touch what she’d once felt for Tucker.

Watching as that pristine white casket was slowly lowered into the ground had changed him, though.

It had changed both of them.

Gone had been the days of frantic lovemaking. Of being unable to wait to get each other’s clothes off. In fact, Tucker had moved into another bedroom soon afterward, cutting himself off from her completely.

The difference between them was that Kady had never completely let go of hope. Even in the aftermath of Grace’s death.

It took two recessive genes coming together to cause Tay-Sachs. He could have had children with someone else and not had a problem. Although since neither of them were of Ashkenazi Jewish heritage, it had never dawned on them that they could be carriers until it was too late. What were the chances? Enough to land them with a horrific diagnosis.

Any future children they’d produced would have had a one in four chance of having the same deadly genetic imprint.

But there were other ways to have kids. Adoption. Even genetic selection of embryos, although that thought made her stomach swish sideways.

The last panelist finished and not one of them had spoken about genetic abnormalities, which she found odd. Unless there was a dedicated workshop just focusing on screening. She would have to look at the schedule and avoid any such session like the plague.

The moderator opened the floor to questions—the moment she’d been dreading the most.

The first one came from a female audience member and was directed at Tucker. “How many fetal surgeries have you done? And what are the most common things you’ve corrected? The last question goes along with that. Have you ever had a case that you knew was hopeless?”

The long seconds of silence that followed the query would have made any librarian proud. Only Kady knew exactly what had caused it. And why.

A thousand pins pricked the backs of her eyelids and she had to steel herself not to let them take hold. Instead, she clasped her hands tightly together and willed him the strength to get through the question.

“I’ve done a few hundred surgeries, although I don’t have an exact number. The most common procedures I’ve run into have been neural tube defects. And, no, I’ve never had a case where I’ve given up without at least exploring every available option.”

That answer jerked her head sideways to stare down the line at him. He most certainly had. The fact that he could sit there and let that answer fall from his lips made the pendulum swing from sympathy back toward anger.

Only this time he didn’t look her way, so her mad face was useless.

Two questions later, someone asked Kady what her toughest case had been.

“That would be my divorce.” She laughed as if it was all a big joke, even though that barb had been sent straight toward the hunk to her left. “Sorry. No, my toughest case was a mother who came in at six months carrying quadruplets. She’d had no prenatal care and was seizing—in full eclampsia.” A whisper of gasps went through the audience. Kady waited for it to die down, knowing the worst was yet to come. That case had made her cry, and had almost, almost made her quit medicine completely. But they needed to know the realities of what they would face.

She forced herself to continue. “Only one of those babies survived. That was hard. I can’t stress enough the need for early intervention and care, and you should stress it to your patients as well. Knowledge really is power in cases like this one. If she’d been followed from her first trimester, we probably could have given her a good outcome that ended with four live births.”

Even as she said it, she knew—from experience—there were some conditions that no amount of care or intervention could fix.

An hour later, the questions had been exhausted and people filtered from the room, leaving her to stuff her papers back into her bag and plan her escape. The moderator handed her a note. She glanced at it and frowned. The head of maternal-fetal surgery at Wilson-Ross wanted her to stop by his office when she had a chance.

Why? Unless it had something to do with the conference. She made a mental note to swing by the hospital as she dropped the slip of paper into her purse. Her fingers brushed across the IVF clinic’s letter, and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at it. It was a huge decision. But maybe it was the best one for her.

“I didn’t realize you were going to be here.” Someone settled into the vacated chair next to her.

She snatched her attention from the letter, jerking the edges of her handbag closed.

Get real, Kady. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

“I could say the same thing about you.” She hadn’t meant that to come out as surly as it had.

His glance traveled from her face to her hand, making her realize her fingers were still clenched around the opening to her bag.

“The difference is,” he said, “I work here.”

“I was a last-minute substitution. Your administrator asked me to come.”

“Ah, so you’re taking Dr. Blacke’s place, then. I’d wondered who they got.”

“Is he traveling?”

“No. He found out he has pancreatic cancer last week.”

Up came her head, her eyes finding his. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Tucker. I had no idea. Does he have a good prognosis?”

“Unfortunately no, although all of us have seen hopeless cases turn around completely.”

“And sometimes they don’t.” She forced her fingers to release their death grip on her purse, afraid he’d read some kind of telling emotion into the act.

Ha! As if there wasn’t.

“You’re right. Sometimes they don’t.” He studied her for a few seconds before continuing, “Our divorce was the toughest thing you’ve ever handled?”

“It was an icebreaker. It was supposed to be funny.” Especially since they both knew the correct and not-funny-at-all answer would have been Grace’s death. “None of them know we were ever married, much less divorced.”

“And yet we’ve been both.” His mouth tightened slightly. “Maiden name?”

“Easier, don’t you think?” If he could do short, concise questions, so could she. Especially as her heart was beginning to set up a slow thudding in her chest that spelled danger. She needed to get out of there.

“Easier? Possibly.”

Possibly? That drew her up short. How did that even make sense? Of course it was easier.

“I think it is. People won’t automatically see the last names and wonder if we’re brother and sister. Or something else.”

One side of that mouth quirked again. “Oh, it was definitely something else.”

The thudding became a triplet of beats. Then another. How was it that he could still turn her knees to jelly with the single turn of phrase?

“Tucker...” She allowed a warning note to enter her voice.

He leaned back in his chair. “So how are you?”

“Fine.”

Sure she was. Right now, she was anything but fine. Why had she let herself be talked into this stupid trip?

He leaned forward. “Okay, let’s cut to the chase. Are you staying for the entire conference?”

“Yes. You?” It was a stupid question, since he lived here, but her brain was currently operating in a fog.

“Hmm...”

She would take that as a yes.

“Do you have a place to stay?” he asked.

A weird squeaking sound came from her throat that she disguised as a laugh. “I take it that wasn’t an invitation.”

He smiled the first real smile she’d seen since she’d been there. “I take it you wouldn’t accept, if it was.”

“That probably wouldn’t be wise.” Not that they hadn’t done some very unwise things over the course of their relationship. “The hospital booked me a room at the hotel across the street. It’s convenient. And close to both the hospital and the conference center.”

“Convenient. That’s one word for it.”

Was he saying that her being here was making it awkward for him? Of course it was. Just like being around him was uncomfortable for her. In more ways than one.

She took a deep breath and asked a real question. “How are you, Tucker...really?”

“I’m busy.” His smile faded, the words taking on an edge that made her tilt her head. And it didn’t answer her question.

“You always were in high demand.”

“With some people. Not so much with others.”

Was he talking about their marriage? Because she hadn’t been the one to withdraw. He had. She’d loved this man. Deeply. Passionately. It was why it had devastated her when he’d shut down completely during Grace’s illness—pulling away from everyone except for his patients.

She’d been his wife! Grace’s slow downward spiral had been just as painful for her. The worst thing was, she’d felt frighteningly alone during those first few months after her death, while Tucker had slept in the guest bedroom and spent longer and longer hours working at the hospital. Desperate to reconnect with him on whatever level she could, she’d casually said maybe they should try to have another baby. If she’d thought that would lure him back into their bedroom, she couldn’t have been more wrong. He’d looked at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses, his next words chilling her to the bone.

I’ll never have another child.

When she’d started to say something more, he’d cut her off with a shake of his head and walked out of the room. Any time she’d brought up the subject after that, begging him to talk to her, she’d been met with the same stony response. Rather...no response. And his hours at the office had increased so that he’d barely been home at all.

Then had come the final blow. On the first anniversary of Grace’s death, he’d announced he’d decided to get a vasectomy, as if it was something people did every day. He’d probably hoped that would end all talk of having more children. It had.

His unilateral decision had floored her. And infuriated her.

The powerlessness she’d felt had been crushing. All-encompassing.

That had been the beginning of the end. Actually, it had been more like a rapid slide to home base, only to find out that the ball had arrived long before you had.

Three strikes and they were out. Bags packed. Papers filed. Divorce decree signed.

Being bitter solved nothing, though. So she stuffed all that back inside.

She went back to his cryptic comment about being in demand. “I’m sure your patients appreciate all you do.”

A softness came back into his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to be the big bad wolf back then, Kady.”

“I can see that...now.”

Back then, though, things hadn’t been so clear, and he’d seemed like the villain in their particular tale.

To her, anyway. Even now the memory of those days pinched at her heart like a pair of surgical clamps, causing a strange numbness to come over her.

But not so numb that it staunched the weird waterworks sensation that was inching its way back onto her radar. God, she wished things could have been different between them. They hadn’t been, though. So she needed to stop looking at him with glasses that magnified those old hurts. “That’s all in the past, where I think it should probably stay.”

He stood. “You’re right. It is. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”

“I’m glad you did. It was really good to see you again.”

Good and sad and filled with all kinds of regrets.

He walked away, leaving her on her own once again. Only this time she was ready. All decisions about whether or not to have children would be made by her. And as soon as she got home, she was going to act on them. Seeing him again had just brought home all her reasons for wanting a child, and that longing she’d had as she’d carried Grace over those nine months.

All she needed to do was select a sperm donor and she’d be ready to start a family of her own.

For a few brief seconds she’d wanted to throw that letter from the clinic in his face, the way he’d thrown his decision about not having children in hers, but what would it solve?

Nothing.

She didn’t want to hurt Tucker. She just wanted a baby. Not to replace Grace. That would never happen. She would always love her little girl and be grateful for the time they’d had together. At times, Grace’s loss still caused her lungs to seize in the middle of the night as she lay there alone in bed. Any tiny sound in the dark would make her sit up, sure she’d heard a familiar cry. Wishing with all her might that she had heard that cry. And when she realized no one was there, Kady would be the one who cried.

Surely her daughter wouldn’t have wanted her to be stuck in limbo like this, never moving forward. She’d like to think Grace would have wanted her to go on living, to love and be loved. And she was finally ready to share that love. With another baby.

She tried to focus on that and block out the negative thoughts that were steadily creeping into her head.

And the best way to hold those at bay was to stay as far away from Dr. Tucker Stevenson as possible.

CHAPTER TWO

TUCKER HAD NO idea why Phil Harold, the department head, wanted to see him. He was already running behind on his appointments and had a surgery scheduled at two o’clock this afternoon. At this rate, he’d be late to the convention workshop today. The convention. Great. Where he’d probably see Kady again.

How in the hell had any of this happened? He’d come to New York to get away from her. No, not from her. From the pain and memories of what had happened in Atlanta. Except some things—unlike his old golf clubs—weren’t as easy to leave behind. Some of them had followed him. And seeing Kady again had been like a punch to the gut, reawaking the guilt of not being able to give her what she’d wanted.

It was just for a week, though. Surely he could maintain some kind of poker face for that long. Then she’d fly back home. Life would return to normal.

Or some semblance of normal.

He rapped on the door, irritated that his thoughts seemed to keep circling his ex.

“Come.”

The curt command didn’t faze him. Phil was that way with everyone. And, as far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything to tick the man off. Not this week, anyway.

He pushed through the door and paused. Someone else was already in there. “Sorry, I can—”

“No, come in. This concerns both of you.”

Both?

Taking another look at the chair’s occupant, his stomach curdled in protest. Talk about circling. Think about her, and she appeared.

What the hell was Kady doing here?

He’d figured she’d be out lounging by the pool this morning, wearing one of those skimpy bikinis she tended to favor. Memories of creamy skin and long, lithe limbs flashed through his skull, only to be ejected in a hurry.

Not even going there.

That was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.

He chose to remain standing by the door, even as Phil took his seat again. “You have a group of medical students scheduled to shadow you this week between conference sessions. Are you ready for them?”

Oh, hell, he’d completely forgotten about that. Since most of his workshop responsibilities were in the late afternoons, Phil had asked if a small contingent of students who were interested in obstetrics and pediatrics could follow him on his rounds.

That still didn’t explain why Kady was here.

“I am. Thanks for the reminder, though.” Even he could hear the tightness in his voice.

Kady was just as tense. He saw it in the stiff set of her spine, in the way her neck was set squarely between her shoulders. And her hands were clutched together, pressed against her belly. A protective posture. Remembered from her pregnancy all those years ago? His own stomach muscles squeezed against each other.

She’d known Phil was going to call him in here.

“Dr. Blacke was going to help originally, but since he can’t be here, I thought Dr. McPherson might agree to take his place, since your specialties tie together in some areas. I’ve been trying to coax her into it. She thinks you might object for some reason. You don’t. Correct?”

He waited for Kady to offer up some other kind of excuse, but she just sat there like a stone. It was up to him to derail this train.

“No objections, but I’m sure Dr. McPherson didn’t come here expecting to practice medicine.”

Phil’s glance went from him to Kady. “Can we count on you to help a sister hospital train up a new generation of doctors?”

Leave it to the department head to make it almost impossible to refuse. It was a weapon the man used well.

“Well... Of course. If you think it would help.”

The hesitation was obvious. But he knew Phil well enough to know that he would purposely ignore it. And there was no way he could signal her without his boss seeing it.

And Phil wasn’t asking anything out of the ordinary. He and Dr. Blacke normally did a kind of back and forth dialogue with medical students.

“Yes, it would help Dr. Stevenson out immensely.”

Of course it would.

Tucker was barely able to suppress the eye-roll he felt coming on. He covered it by asking, “Any idea who will take Gordy’s place during his treatment?”

“Not yet. We’re still looking for his replacement.” He glanced at Kady, a speculative smile curving his lips. “You wouldn’t consider transferring to our neck of the woods, would you?”

Kady’s hands uncurled and her thumb went to the back of her ring finger and scrubbed at it. Trying to remove any reminders of what was once there? She’d mailed the rings back to him. He still had them somewhere. Why, he had no idea.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m getting ready to—” Her voice came to an abrupt stop, along with her thumb, before starting up again. “I have a lot going on in Atlanta right now. And my family is there.”

Kady’s grandparents. They were good people who’d raised her after her parents had been killed in a car accident. He respected them. And Kady loved them like crazy. He’d left for New York almost immediately after they’d separated.

He hadn’t talked to them about the split. He probably should have faced her grandfather and tried to explain. But what explanation was there, really? He and Kady disagreed on a fundamental part of their life together. She wanted more children. He didn’t. Had taken steps to make sure that option was never on the table with Kady, or any another woman.

His and Kady’s wants and needs had landed them in opposite corners of the ring, and neither of them was willing to come to the middle.

Middle? There was no middle. One of them would have had to give in completely. He couldn’t ask that of Kady. Whispers of guilt surrounded his heart and mind, his teeth clamping tightly to ward them off. She deserved to have kids if that’s what she wanted. He just...couldn’t. A divorce had seemed better than forcing her to live a life she didn’t want. Maybe she already had another child. The thought of that made his jaw lock tight. She wasn’t married again, judging from the lack of a ring on that finger she’d been worrying a moment earlier.

Phil nodded. “We’ll just have to take whatever you’re willing to give while you’re here, then. Since Dr. Stevenson is fine with you pairing up, then we’re good?”

One side of Tucker’s mouth twitched to the side at the way Phil had worded that. He and Kady used to do a whole lot of pairing up—in a completely different sense. There was no way he or Kady were going to admit to that, though, so it looked like they were both stuck. Unless they told Phil they were divorced—from each other—they were going to have a hard time explaining why they couldn’t work together.

“I’m happy to help, of course.”

Those words were soft. Unsure. Not like the Kady he knew who took the bull by the horns and wrestled it to the ground. Then again, she’d lived through a lot of heartache since their youthful days when they’d been carefree and crazy in love.

“Good. I’ll leave you two to work on coordinating your schedules. I appreciate you giving us some of your time, Dr. McPherson. If you go down to HR, they can reimburse you for your hours. Not as much as you’d get for practicing medicine, but we do have a small budget for consultants.”

“It’s okay. I’m taking Dr. Blacke’s place at the conference anyway. If it will help patients in the future, then it’s for a good cause.”

“We at Wilson-Ross thank you.”

It wasn’t like Phil to stand on formalities. Or to suggest that a visiting doctor transfer to his department on a permanent basis. He took a closer look at the man as a tinge of something dark and ugly rose up inside him. He didn’t see any overt interest, but Phil was divorced too, and Kady was a beautiful woman.

Even if the man was interested, there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he would do about it. His ring was no longer on her finger. She could do as she pleased.

And if Phil pleased her?

Give it a rest, idiot!

Maybe interpreting Phil’s words as a dismissal, his ex climbed to her feet and reached to shake Phil’s hand. Her blouse rode up, exposing a sliver of her back in the process.

His fingers curled into his palms.

Damn.

How he’d loved to explore each ridge and hollow of her spine, his index finger slowly working its way from her neck all the way down the vertebral column, whispering the names and numbers of each in her ear. By the time he’d reached the bottom, she’d been shaking with need.

So had he.

Sex between them had always been volcanic. Greedy and generous. Two words not normally associated with each other, but that described their lovemaking perfectly.

“Thanks for the opportunity,” she murmured.

The opportunity to spend more of her time with her ex? Of course not. That was just his feverish brain lusting after what it couldn’t have. What it shouldn’t have.

Which was why he’d had to let her go two years ago. His body had never listened to his head where she was concerned. If he’d stayed, he would have ended up making them both miserable. He’d seen it in her face. Heard it in her voice.

He waited for her to leave the room, then threw a nod to Phil and followed her out. He fell into step beside her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. If you said no, Phil would have to understand.”

“And what would we tell him exactly?”

“We’d think of something.”

She sighed. “I think it’s already been decided. Besides, I want to do it.”

“Why?” He was genuinely curious. The last thing they should do was spend any more time than necessary together. Hadn’t he already proven that a minute ago? Or maybe she wasn’t still as affected by him as he was by her.

“I don’t know exactly. It’s an exciting chance to see how things are done at the main campus of Wilson-Ross.”

“Trust me. It’s the same as Wilson-Ross in Atlanta.”

“Maybe, but we follow protocols set by New York. You see the first new wave of treatments.”

He nodded. “You could get that by meeting with the folks in Maternal-Fetal. I could set up a face to face with them, if you want.”

“I would love that. But I’d still like to help with the medical students.” She turned her face to look at him. “Unless it would make you too uncomfortable.”

That was exactly what he had been thinking just moments earlier. But it wasn’t something he wanted to admit. Not even to himself.

“And you wouldn’t be?”

The colorful lines on the white linoleum floor helped guide patients and staff alike to different sections of the hospital. He followed the blue stripe, although he knew the route by heart. His office was on the other side of the hospital.

“We’ve lived through things that were a lot worse than a few hours of awkwardness.”

“Yes. We have.” He hesitated. It was none of his business, but he had to ask. “Did you ever have more kids?”

Her face paled for a few telling seconds before turning a bright pink. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again. “No. I haven’t.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

She stopped in her tracks, her chin popping up. “No. You shouldn’t have.” Then her face softened. “Thank you for sending the flowers, though.”

He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. The monthly daisies for Grace’s grave. “The florist sends them. I just put in the order.”

“I thought they were from you, but there is never any card attached.”

“Grace can’t read a card.” His jaw tightened again. “Or anything else.”

The florist had told him that daisies symbolized innocence and purity. Exactly what he thought of when he remembered his daughter. It had made the suffering she’d gone through all the more terrible somehow.

“Then why send them?” The question didn’t have the challenging tone he would have expected. Instead, she seemed to be searching for something.

He had no idea what, and even if he did, Tucker didn’t have an answer for her. He had no idea why he sent them. It was true. Grace would never see or touch or bury her face in those white petals. A tightness gripped his throat that wouldn’t let go.

That first trip to the florist’s shop had been hard. He’d sat in the parking lot for almost an hour before he’d been able to make himself go inside. The woman at the desk had taken his order, the compassion on her face almost his undoing. But once it was done, it had become almost a ritual—a sacred remembrance of what she’d meant to him.

He shrugged. “I know she would have liked them. It’s the only explanation I have.”

As she turned to start walking, something made him snag her wrist and pull her to a stop. When she turned to face him again, he took a moment to study her before letting go of her hand. She’d lost weight in the last two years. She wasn’t emaciated, by any means, but there were hollows to her cheeks that hadn’t been there when they’d been together. Maybe it was because her hair was longer than it had been, those vibrant red waves throwing shadows across her face. But whatever it was, her green eyes were the same, glowing...alive. Only now they were a little more secretive than they used to be. He didn’t like not being able to read her the way he once could.

“Are you...?”

Her brows puckered. “Am I what?”

“Are you okay with me sending them? The flowers, I mean.” He’d set out to ask her if she was really and truly okay. But since he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, he’d changed it at the last second.

“Yes.” Kady reached out and touched his hand. “I think it’s sweet. And Nanna and Granda’ like seeing them when they go to visit her grave.”

“How are they?” Kady’s Irish grandparents had taken some getting used to. As had her extended family, which was huge. And loud. And fun. He and his parents had been close, but their family gatherings had been small, reserved affairs. And as an only child, Tucker had learned to imitate that...to remain quiet and stoic no matter what was happening around him.

Not the McPhersons. They all wore their hearts on their sleeves, holding nothing in.

Only Kady did. At least, the Kady standing in front of him did.

She dropped her hand to her side. The urge to reach down and enfold it in his came and went. “They miss Grace, obviously, just like I do. But they’re doing okay. Nanna has been a bit forgetful recently, which has Granda’ worried.”

“Anything serious?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t see the signs of Alzheimer’s there. But time will tell. If it gets worse, I’ll talk her into getting some tests.”

“A very smart idea.”

Tell them I said hi. Send them my love. Tell them I’ll see them soon.

None of those responses were appropriate anymore. And it set up an ache inside him that wouldn’t quit.

“They’re thinking of selling the house and getting something smaller.”

The McPhersons’ home was huge by any standards. They’d held large family gatherings there. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Any holiday had been an occasion to be celebrated. He couldn’t picture them living anywhere else. The family’s wealth had been another thing that had come between him and Kady at the end. She had insisted her grandparents were willing to hire a fertility expert to make sure the odds of having another baby with Tay-Sachs were as low as possible. He’d been dead set against it. Not because of the money it would take. Her grandparents could afford all of that and more. His argument had been more along the lines of not being able to guarantee with a hundred percent certainty that they would not have another child like Grace.

“That would take some getting used to for them, wouldn’t it?”

“I think they’re ready for a change.”

Just like Tucker had been. Looking back, though, he wondered if it wasn’t so much that he had been ready for change as it was that he’d been running from his grief. The hopeful look on Kady’s face whenever she’d spoken of another baby had been enough to send an icepick through his heart. Eventually the organ had become a sieve, any emotional involvement leaking away until there had been nothing left.

“I hope it all works out for them.”

“Thank you.”

And on that note it was time for him to get back to his own retooled life. “Well, I have a surgery today at two. I’m assuming the medical students will be coming tomorrow, since Phil didn’t mention them being at the hospital today.” He paused. “Do you need anything while you’re here?”

He wasn’t sure what he would do if she came up with something personal.

“No. I think I’m good. I guess I’ll see you later this afternoon, if you’re in any of the sessions.”

“I’m scheduled for the anesthesia and pregnancy track.”

She nodded. “I’m not in that one. I have ‘Monitoring the High-Risk Pregnancy from Beginning to Delivery.’ So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Any idea at all on when we’re supposed to meet the students?”

He hadn’t thought to ask, although Phil had probably told him at some point. “I’m not sure. I’ll get hold of him and give you a call at the hotel, if that’s okay.”

“Yes. I’m in room 708. You can leave a message if I’m not there.”

No offer of her cellphone number. But then again, he’d told her he’d call her at the hotel, so maybe she thought he didn’t want it.

He didn’t.

Did he?

Hell, no. It would just give his fingers an excuse to push and erase those numbers again and again. Or, worse, call her with some trumped-up excuse just so he could hear her voice.

That was all he needed—one more thing to brood over. Not that he’d tried to call her since the divorce. Her cellphone number could be the same, for all he knew.

She said goodbye, and this time when she turned to leave he didn’t try to stop her.

Even though there was a small part of him that wanted to do just that.

And he had no idea why.

* * *

Kady had the morning to herself. It was still early and the pool was deserted. Dropping her towel onto a nearby lounger, she went over to the water’s edge and dipped in a toe. A shiver rippled over her at the difference in temperature. All the windows were fogged up, but the heat and humidity of the room were a welcome change from the icy interior of the hotel. She kind of liked the misty atmosphere. It gave her a sense of privacy. As if this was her personal luxury spa.

She hadn’t seen Tucker at the convention the previous night, but then again they’d been in separate sessions. As soon as her part had ended, she’d gone straight to her room. She’d had a headache, and a dull listlessness had stolen over her, something she hadn’t felt in a while. The result of seeing Tucker again?

Probably.

It was a shock, that’s all. Anyone in their right mind would feel a big old jolt of disbelief at seeing their ex after all this time.

All this time? It wasn’t like it had been ten years since she’d seen him. From her horrified reaction, it might as well have been, though.

And he hadn’t called to say what time they were supposed to meet the medical students, so she assumed that wasn’t happening until later. Or maybe he’d told Mr. Harold that he preferred she didn’t come. That made her frown. She would have expected him to let her know, either way. Unless he’d tried and couldn’t reach her.

She probably should have given him her cellphone number, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind until she’d been almost out of the hospital. To run back and breathlessly give it to him smacked of teenaged infatuation. And Kady had long since passed those days of young love.

Young love. Ha!

“Cynical, Kady. Cynical.”

Okay, it might be cynical, but better that than be hurt by another man. Tucker had talked about never having any more children? Well, she was pretty sure she wasn’t getting married again. She hadn’t even wanted to date since they’d broken up.

She could just take the plunge and put up a profile on one of those date matcher-upper things. Instead, she took a different kind of plunge and jumped into the pool. The chill shocked her system, almost causing her lungs to contract and blow out all her air reserves. She controlled the urge and then kicked her way to the very bottom. She tooled around, following the downward curve until she reached the deep end. Nice. This was the only kind of plunge she wanted to take. Her eyes burned slightly from the chlorine, but she was used to that. She drifted to where the light was, putting her palm over it before she went even deeper, glancing up at the surface above. She couldn’t remember if the pool had an eight- or twelve-foot depth.

What did it matter? She could just stay down here forever.

Except she couldn’t.

As they always did, her lungs sent the first twinges of protest to her brain. Just another few seconds.

She closed her eyes and let herself “be.” Something she could only seem to do in the water. But her lungs’ distress calls had now been taken up by other parts of her body. Time to go. She pushed off the concrete floor and shot toward the light above, breaking the surface and sucking down one huge gulp of air after another, before reaching toward the edge. Instead of a cold tiled surface, she encountered something firm but warm. Curling around her hand.

Blinking the water out of her eyes in a hurry, she glanced up.

“Tucker?” The name rasped across her vocal cords right before shock took control of them and rendered her silent. She wasn’t even sure why she’d asked, other than letting her brain in on what her heart already knew: it was him. It had to be, even if the light behind him cast his face in shadow. That, along with his dark jeans and black shirt, gave him a slightly sinister look. He could be a dark god. Or a fallen angel. She couldn’t quite decide which fit him better.

Neither.

Breathe, Kady, breathe.

She did just that, trying to figure out if she was just imagining it or if Tucker was really crouched by the side of the pool, gripping her hand. His skin was warm. She could just curl into his palm and...

And nothing.

“I was just about to go in after you.”

“You were?”

“You looked pretty lifeless down there. One minute you were swimming like a fish and the next you went into some kind of suspended animation.” His thumb made a slight movement across the back of her hand. Small enough to make her wonder if she’d imagined it. Imaginary or not, it sent raw sensation skittering down her nerve endings, making them scramble to interpret it.

There was nothing to interpret.

She struggled to get her tongue to wrap around the words. “You’ve seen me like that before.” He had. Many times.

He paused, fingers tightening slightly on hers. “Yes. I have.”

Were they talking about the same thing? “Okay, so you know that I’m fine.”

“I do now. You’re a land creature, Kady. You belong up here.”

Next to him? When he looked like that? When just the touch of his hand on hers was making her picture all kinds of crazy scenarios? Like pulling him into the pool and seeing what it started?

There was no way in hell she was going to do that. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I lost the slip of paper with your room number on it.” The pad of his thumb shifted again. This time there was no way it was her imagination. Why was he still holding onto her anyway? And why the heck wasn’t she pulling away?

“How did you expect to find me when you came over, then?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” He smiled. “Want me to help you out?”

She took stock of the situation. Her towel was way over there. And she was dressed in a pretty skimpy bikini. He’d seen her stretch marks and the changes in her abdomen from carrying Grace before. But they’d been married back then. When things between them had been easy and comfortable.

She was no longer comfortable in his presence. She was self-conscious and nervous. And she didn’t like it.

Better to just face it. “Sure. Thanks.”

She gave a quick kick of her legs to help him, and Tucker hauled her up and out of the pool. His eyes skated across her torso, then he dropped her hand as if he’d grabbed the wrong end of a scalpel. Then he swore, his gaze moving up and out—landing on anything except her.

What the...?

When she glanced down, she shrieked. The side strings on her bikini top had come undone, something she would have noticed had she not been so busy trying to figure out if he was stroking her hand. And getting worked up over it.

Well, she wasn’t worked up anymore!

Turning away quickly, thankful now for the fogged-up glass, she yanked the strings behind her back and attempted to tie them. Except she normally turned the top around and tied it in the front before twisting it to the back once more and then knotting the top.

Why couldn’t she have worn a one-piece?

Well, she hadn’t expected Tucker to walk in on her, for one thing.

Why do you care? The man has seen you naked, for heaven’s sake. He’s seen you giving birth. He cut the cord afterward.

But that noise he’d just made hadn’t been an “Oh, big deal” sound.

It had been more like, “Did I just see what I think I saw?” In the old days, she would have thrown him a sexy quip and invited him closer. Much closer. They then would have spent the next couple of hours tangled in a heap, finding the first available surface. The bed. The sofa. The dining-room table.

On the fourth try with the strings she let out an exasperated breath.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” She wasn’t going to admit it, even if she did.

“Here, let me.”

Warm hands brushed her icy ones aside, fingers gliding across her skin. Prickles broke out, rippling across her body and ending at her nipples, which tightened unbearably.

Because this time the slow, soft touches weren’t in her imagination.

Lordy!

She hadn’t invited him to come closer, but he had anyway.

It wasn’t for the same reasons, but her body thought it was. It was busy rolling out the red carpet for the man while he worked on unaware.

As embarrassing and awkward as her reaction to the workings of his fingers was, it was even worse when he suddenly stopped. “I think that’s got it. Do you need it double knotted?”

There was a low roughness to his voice that made her stomach contract. She should tell him, no, that she was fine, that she was done anyway.

“Please.”

Was that her head talking? Or her overly eager libido?

She had no idea, only knew that her eyes slid closed as soon as he touched her again. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And, God, she had missed this part of their relationship.

His movements weren’t quite as sure as they’d been a few minutes ago. His palm brushed her back, all five fingers trailing down her spine in a way that was burned into her memory. Then his touch was gone.

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